


you and me (got a whole lot of history)

by PooPyon



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: I'm super bad with tagging, More characters to come probably, Red Hood - Freeform, Red Robin, batfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6437458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PooPyon/pseuds/PooPyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Tim forms an unlikely, (hopefully) temporary truce to swap intels. Tim needs to know what Jason plans to do with that kind of information. Jason thinks Tim isn't the boss of him. Tim is determined to prove him wrong.</p>
<p>or:</p>
<p>How Red Hood and Red Robin came to trust each other more than they do other bats and birds in town.</p>
<p>( I suck at summaries, but this is supposed to fill the gaps on how Jason and Tim got along really well in newer publications )</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me (got a whole lot of history)

**Author's Note:**

> Am I sorry that I put a One Direction song as the title of this fic? Maybe a little.
> 
> This takes place before New52 (obviously), right when there were two Batmen (Bat!Dick is such a blessing) and Red Hood was still more than a little wary of the Batfam. Also, we're all going to pretend that Battle of the Cowl and Bat!Dick & Robin (2011) didn't //quite// go like it did, because Jason's characterization was way off and I just really don't like talking about it. 
> 
> Jason has his natural black hair and Red Robin's costume is exactly like it was Pre-New52, except without the ugly cowl (he wears a domino mask, because it looks waay better and I said so)

It was a quiet patrol night when he found him, found Red Robin rounding off a couple of thugs and warning them not to make illegal drug transactions in Gotham because it was, well, _illegal_ (“Or at least don’t do it where I can _hear_ you,” was the plead that went unsaid, because everyone knew that the capes have bigger fish to fry than bother with _them_ ). Jason was quite pleased with this development; he didn’t think he’d run into Red Robin this early.

He leapt down and pointed his well-polished gun at Red Robin’s face.

_What do you want,_ Red Robin asked, a little too calm for someone who was standing at gunpoint, but Jason supposed that was what working with Batman do to you.

_I need to get into the bat network,_ said Jason, and Red Robin paused for a moment (was he going to say “Over my dead body” or “Fuck you” or “Did the Joker beat the sense out of you too?”) Jason kept his gun steady. Red Robin didn’t flinch. He was, apparently, still considering Jason quietly.

_Why,_ he finally spoke. And then: _You do know the answer is no, right. It’s no._

_Oh, well that’s too bad_ , Jason said, and he lowered his gun to point at Red Robin’s crotch. _How about now?_

Red Robin frowned, and it almost seemed like he was going to actually _scold_ Jason, the way his eyes looked at him disapprovingly like that. Jason was just so fucking ready to shoot him on the shoulder or the foot or something, but instead, Red Robin asked Jason why he wanted to hack into the Batnet (that is _such_ a shitty name, did the kid thought of that?) and Jason said, as casually as he could, that he needed _intel from sources I currently do not control_.

_What’s in it for me,_ Red Robin asked, as if he didn’t have a gun pointed at him by a well-known murderer. Jason had thought of this, and he eloquently told him that he had access to Interpol and some Russian intel, as well as a few alien communication links that might interest the Batclan. He mentioned that Bruce would kill for those kind of resources (well, not _literally_ , he made a mental note), so _what do you say, have we got ourselves a deal?_

They did, and Tim took him to the batcave that night, typing in passwords breezily and pressing fingerprints to the necessary security posts (he warned Jason that he would change and amp up security the next day, but Jason just snorted). Tim bypassed Oracle’s own security measures just as easily, and now Jason can access everything the bats have in their database, using a “phantom user” account that Tim just created.

(Jason’s eyes lingered to the glass case with his old Robin costume inside, and he took notice of the lack of blood there. The thought of Alfred having to scrub it clean broke his heart)

Jason said _Thanks_ and handed him a USB in the shape of Wonder Woman’s symbol ( _Only $3.99 this Easter break!_ _Grab it fast at selected Target stores!_ ) which contained a few information of interest that might make Oracle wet. Tim nodded – ignored the appearance of the USB and that jab directed to Babs – and shoved the USB in his utility belt.

Then, quite unexpectedly: _You might need this_. Tim gave Jason an earpiece – Jason knew damn well what that was for.

He really didn’t need that.

_I really don’t need this_ , Jason said, stern and sure.

_Take it anyway_ , Tim said, and he sounded almost _tired_. Fine, whatever. Jason could humour him. He waved the earpiece absently with one hand as he exited the cave, thinking to himself that the exchange had gone rather well, and that this uneasy truce with the bats may not be so bad after all.

Tim thought of a million different ways that things could go horribly wrong following this little deal.

\---

It was their fifth meeting this month.

Tim stayed quiet for a second before he decided to voice out his concerns, _That kills you. It literally kills you. I mean, any idiot knows that. It’s proven. Scientifically._ But Jason just gave him this infuriating half smile – it’s mocking, and sad, and knowing – and he said, _We all die, so don’t sweat it too much._ And Tim hated how he understood what Jason was talking about, but he just sat next to him on that rooftop, and tried not to think of cigarettes and cancer and death.

They talked a little about the various crimes happening in town, because it was two A.M and the night had denied them thugs and muggers to punch and they couldn’t very well talk about things normal young men talk about (they’ve been denied that as well, when a man dressed as a bat came crashing into their lives). Jason mentioned The List and Tim said, _Well, you know how it is_ , and Jason nodded, because he did. Tim apologized, _But_. Jason shut him up with a look.

They went silent for a while.

_You’ve been rounding off pimps and inputting sex workers’ identities to the network,_ Tim began, his voice flat. _No arrests. Three murders._

Jason neither confirmed nor denied that.

_I think it’s time you tell me what you’re planning._ Tim said it as if it was a suggestion, in a matter-of-fact kind of way. Then, after a beat: _I could cut you off from the net anytime._

Jason regarded him seriously. He told him to stay out of his business, _kid_ , got up and tossed a USB (it was Superman-shaped this time) at Tim nonchalantly. Tim caught it, unblinking.

Red Robin sighed, clutching the USB a little tighter in his hand.

_AnonPhantom_ was denied access to the Batnet that night.

\---

The problem with the capes was that they never bothered with the in-betweens, the failures and fuck-ups of the world. They were too busy fighting monsters and clowns with blood and scarecrows and aliens and the End of Mother Earth as We Know It, that they’ve forgotten about the kind of justice that needs to exist in dark alleys and rundown houses. They don’t know the twisted dynamics of the underworld; which sad bastard sold his home to buy drugs to _survive_ , and which asshole profits off of crime in some kind of sick, vile glee.

Jason knew. He was raised here after all, born and moulded in crime alley, and by God he swore he was going to reclaim it.

(Not that he believed in God, mind you. He didn’t believe in anything, or anyone – at least, not until Bruce – and look where _that_ got him? No, _thank_ you, Elder Pisshead, I don’t want to hear about your American Jesus today)

Everything was going according to plan – he had most, if not all, of the important crimelord in Gotham in the palm of his hand. He made sure that no kid will be trapped in the vicious, endless cycle of drug addiction and he had _put down_ (murder was _such_ a strong word. No one ever says they’ve _murdered_ a cockroach) the wretched idiots that were not playing by his rules.

But it wasn’t enough. The whole deal with drugs was one thing (and something that Jason was more than familiar with), but that opened a billion can of worms that exist in Gotham city – exponentially more than he bargained for.

No matter. He would deal with it, one by one.

First order of business: prostitutes.

He knew the issue of sex workers were more complicated than meets the eye: some do it out of necessity, others actually revel in the occupation. But it was also common knowledge that they were very prone to abuse, that certain gangs and big shot clients use questionable means to get what they want from these people. Jason needed to get this under control, needed to provide _safety_ and _assurance_ , make sure that the weak gets protected and the strong keeps their shit _strictly within moral bounds._

He couldn’t do it without proper intel.

Locating and targeting crimelords had been easy – what was it they say, about idiots and loudmouths and sly snitches–? You get the idea. Pimps and prostitution rings on the other hand, require a more, ah, _delicate_ method of investigation; sex workers aren’t exactly thrilled to spill which sonuvabitch had been treating them unjustly – these women (and girls and boys, let’s not kid ourselves) were replaceable, _disposable_ , and they knew it.

No, this time Jason couldn’t extract information by simple bribery or threats alone. Loathe as he was to admit it, the Red Hood needed several leads, a neat list of recorded physical abuse and shady murders in the past several years, a recognizable _pattern_ that could direct him to the shitheads he wanted.

That’s where the Batnet came in – _shut up_ , that’s what Red Robin had called it, and that’s what _he_ was going to call it too, _damn it._ That’s where he needed the criminal records that Oracle keeps to do the bit of detective work that would lead him to the key pimp gangs, and then he could bring _order_ – the _right_ kind of justice – to the streets of Gotham.

And he would’ve done it too, if it wasn’t for that meddling kid.

\---

It was almost four in the morning, and Tim Drake was taking a sip of his favourite premium Arabica coffee when he felt an odd chill down his spine. _Huh._ It was probably just the wind.

…Right?

He closed the windows and locked them just in case.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The List(tm) refers to the record that Tim keeps of the "allies" that he thinks has the potential/ability to be a threat to the batfam. It's officially called Hit List or whatever, but The List(tm) sounds cooler. I couldn't find which issue/comic this was from, but it's defo canon!
> 
> Please leave comments if you enjoy this fic so far! I'm very anxious about the boys' characterization and some constructive feedback on them would be very much appreciated.


End file.
